


Blame the Dog

by Clockwork



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff, Happily Ever After, M/M, Married Couple, Post canon, Revenge is best served cold, Sensory prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 11:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork/pseuds/Clockwork
Summary: Set post canon by a few years. Michael and Alex live happily ever after. There's again, a dog. It's a thing I am doing for them. Just accept it. Alex goes out to shovel the snow, and Michael isn't thrilled with Alex risking hurting himself.  It's fluff and cute.Inspired by the sensory prompts from heir-to-the-diamond-throne on tumblr





	Blame the Dog

It’s not that it never snows in Roswell. Hell, it snowed just a few years previously and had dumped almost two feet of snow on the town. It’s that the climate has changed a lot all over the world in a decade or so, and so there’s another adjustment to make. 

Of course before he hadn’t owned his own cabin in the middle of nowhere before either, where he was responsible for the walk, and the drive, and finding a small patch of dirt in the backyard where the dog can go to the bathroom. If he can ever get said dog to come out from under the bed where she had been hiding since Alex tried putting her out at dawn when she’d woken them up. One paw in the snow and that was the end of that. 

Michael had already been down in the basement when Alex woke up, some new project for Isobel that he’s been spending days on, and said he’d show Alex eventually. Which means it’s something for Alex, and he’s not willing to share until it’s perfect. 

The thought of that makes him smile though, moving to get the shovel from the porch where he’d left it the night before when the forecast for the day had come out. At least there had been some forethought about this morning, even if all he wanted to do was grab Michael and the pup and head back to bed.

Starting in the back, figuring the cars can wait until the snow stops falling, Alex began shoveling from the stone porch off the kitchen door outwards, considering just how much space from the evil snow Mindy was going to need to not pee in the house like she had done five minutes after she came racing back in that morning. 

The wind was a bitter thing, coming in from the north and catching him in the face every time he lifted his head. The chill made his eyes water, almost freezing on his lashes until they stuck together, forcing him to blink rapidly against his lashes settling together. Sniffling, practically feeling his nose and cheeks turn red from the wind whipping over his skin. 

Getting past the stone patio, he picked a direction and started shoveling a path, just digging the wide, flat shovel down beneath the snow and into the sand, building it up into a wall on either side of the path, and not caring if he’d have to fix the yard later.

By the time he got far enough from the house to clear a wide path to hopefully encourage Mindy to not use the house for a bathroom, Alex was starting to not feel his fingers from the wet and cold seeping into his gloves. His back ached deep in the muscles, and the silicone of the prosthetic sock was starting to feeling stiff against his skin. 

“I swear to God, if she doesn’t appreciate this,” he muttered, talking to himself as his breath comes out in heavy, white puffs that only make his face colder. “She’s going to end up sleeping in the kitchen.” At least there’s tile floors in there. Easier to clean. 

Straightening for a moment, considering his work and trying to decide if it’s a big enough space, Alex felt an odd tug at the collar of his coat. Rolling his shoulders, trying to figure out what that sensation was just as he felt snow go down past the collar of his coat, and his shirt.

Icy and wet, the snow melted against the sweat on his neck, rivulets of icy water running down his back. The snow burned against his skin, so cold it hurt as the massive clump slid down along his spine. Alex bucked and bowed, trying to grab at the hem of his coat as he bounced up and down, trying get rid of the snow.

All he managed was to encourage the snow to spread along the small of his back, ice cold water and sludge hitting the tight muscles of his back and making Alex whimper. A sound that became a sharp, whining gasp as the water soaked the waistband of his jeans and continued down the crack of his ass.

Spinning around, he instantly caught sight of Michael standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Michael who hadn’t even gotten his hands cold, using telekinesis to attack Alex while he stood there in jeans and an old sweater of Alex’s, looking smug. Just about as smug as Mindy looked sitting there at Michael’s feet, leaning against his leg.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“Because you thought you would sneak out here and do this without me knowing. What the Hell are you thinking, Alex? How bad does your leg hurt?”

“It doens’t…”

“Alex Manes-Guerin. Don’t you even lie to me. How bad?” He shifted, pushing away from the doorjamb. “Tell me or I come bridal carry you into the house.”

He couldn’t hide how much it did hurt, not having thought about it until he stopped moving, but his limp revealed that the cold was definitely getting to him, and his leg. 

“Alex?”

He waved Michael off, glad for the path as he made his way to the house, cold, wet fingers gripping the front of Michael’s sweater as if clinging to him for support for a moment before straightening slightly. 

“Babe? Are you okay?” What had been smug taunting turned quickly to concern, searching Alex’s face for signs of pain in his eyes.

He nodded, peeling his gloves off. “You were busy and it needed to be done. I can’t avoid everything that hurts, Michael. I love you,” he says, smiling hopefully at his husband.

Michael smiled, leaning down and kissing the tip of Alex’s very red nose. “I love you too. In the house. Now.”

“Yessir,” he says, tones sweet as sugar… as he grabbed the waistband of Michael’s jeans and pulled them out enough to shove his icy, bitter cold gloves down Michael’s pants. “There. Now we’re even.”

He edged past Michael, heading for the bedroom as he shedded his clothes as he goes, knowing even if Michael deserved it, Alex was going to pay for that.

He couldn’t wait.


End file.
